


Lay Me Down Tonight

by LSFOREVER



Series: Date Number One Through Forever [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, First time together anyway, Fluff, Harry in Panties, Held Down, M/M, Perrie is absolutely wonderful ;), Rimming, Six Month Anniversary Date, and some non-super cheesy gifts as well, and what I always save for last, by the wrists, super cheesy gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4080187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSFOREVER/pseuds/LSFOREVER
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>In these last almost six months, Harry's grown so fond of this boy. He's managed to wiggle Harry out of his shell more than anybody else ever, has managed to wiggle himself into Harry's heart, and honestly, Harry doesn't think he could ever let the boy go.</em> </p><p>It's been six months and they're still going strong. Louis gets a little insecure, Harry plans the perfect night, and Perrie is smug as hell (for wonderful reasons).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Me Down Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> (How did this get to 16k when the others were only 7k????) Hi guys!! This wasn't supposed to happen (but I let my heart get the best of me) so here you go!! I hope you enjoy it!! :D
> 
> Title is take from Sam Smith's Lay Me Down.  
> NOTE: This date fic is not based off of that song, I only took the title from the song, so please don't think I wrote a sad date fic because I didn't.
> 
> Thank yous go out to those special people in my life (if you don't know who you are then screw you) (jk I love you) and also to my readers that I also love dearly!!
> 
> — Kat Xx
> 
>  
> 
> **P.S. I have been informed by Bonnie (who has graciously beta'd this, the lovely star she is) that there is a bit of angst near the beginning. I didn't tag it because it's not a substantial amount, so I thought I would warn you here.**

 

 

 

"So Niall's official now? Like, name and picture and all that on the CD case and performing at all the concerts?"

"Mhm," Louis answers excitedly, bouncing a little in the sofa seat next to Harry. He's cute as ever, like always, and Harry smiles a little because of that. "Niall and Liam both agreed to it, I, of course, did too, and so Simon couldn't really say no!"

Harry smiles even wider. He's proud of Liam and Louis, and now Niall too, for making it this far so successfully. And he's very happy that Simon freaking Cowell likes them enough to mentor them through and help fund Liam's first, and amazing, album. Liam's played in more bars, as well as at birthday parties, weddings, even opening for a small London-local band, and his fanbase has steadily been rising, enough buy his only two songs on iTunes and enough notice no name for the guitarist and demand more.

It's all a bit crazy, how fast this has happened, considering it's only been a little over six months since Harry and Louis' second date, the same time and place Simon had "discovered" Liam and Louis—Niall too, albeit not knowingly.

Harry scoots a little closer to Louis; they were already sitting close, what with how small the sofa is, but now they're even closer and Harry can feel the warmth and excitement radiating from Louis' body, and he couldn't be happier.

But, then a thought occurred to him. "And Simon wasn't against the idea even though Liam and Niall are together?"

Louis scrunches his eyebrows together for a moment, seeming to think about what Harry just asked. Finally, after resting a hand on Harry's thigh and effectively making Harry squirm a little, he answers, "If Simon had a problem with it he didn't say anything, and if he would've, I would've punched him throat. Niall and Liam are forever. Like,  _Perrie and Zayn_  forever. Nobody needs to worry about them breaking up and ruining their duo act."

Nodding in agreement, Harry places his hand over Louis' on his thigh, lacing their fingers together. He presses his knee to Louis', and says, "That's true." Then, with a big smile and throwing his arm over Louis' shoulders to hug him close, "I'm happy for you guys though."

"Hey, I was holding that hand," Louis complains, glaring at the hand that was just in his own, and in now resting on his shoulder.

Harry rolls his eyes; he's used to Louis complaining about ridiculous things like that. "And I wanted to hug you," he counters, bringing his other hand over to thread through Louis' again. He thinks it's also a bit crazy, how fast time seems to have gone by. Their six month  _is_  just a few days away.

Louis, gratefully, squeezes Harry's hand, but then turns himself completely, throwing a knee over Harry's thighs and settling his arse over them. Harry blinks, confused for a second, before his brain kicks in and his fingers instinctively curl around Louis's hips. Louis seems to like that, and he pecks Harry on the nose quickly before settling back on Harry's thighs, hands on Harry's shoulders, and he murmurs, "Thanks, by the way." When Harry raises an eyebrow, Louis elaborates, "You know I love when you compliment us."

"Yeah, I know." Harry sighs happily, pulling Louis into a warm hug. He buries his nose in Louis' fringe and breaths in.

In these last almost six months, Harry's grown so fond of this boy. He's managed to wiggle Harry out of his shell more than anybody else ever, has managed to wiggle himself into Harry's heart, and honestly, Harry doesn't think he could ever let the boy go. Harry doesn't know why, but he feels like he likes Louis now more than he did both his first and second boyfriend, and he thought he was in love with them.

But, that's a little scary to think about, especially with Louis so close at the moment, nose in Harry's neck and... crotch nestled tight against Harry's. Which, that in and of itself is not something that should be happening right now, and he knows if it goes on any longer he won't be able to contain himself.

Pulling Louis back so he can talk to him face-to-face, Harry smiles, then says, "I know you just got back from a bunch of meetings and you're probably exhausted—" Louis nods in agreement at the last part, "—but Z called earlier and he and Pezza want us to go out and eat with them."

"We haven't been out with them in forever—"

"Two weeks," Harry interrupts with a smirk. It's just like Louis to over exaggerate things. Harry thinks it's cute.

Louis rolls his eyes. "Whatever," he brushes Harry's comment off and squeezes his shoulder. "We should still go though. What time did they want to head out?"

Harry frowns, checking the clock on the wall. "Not for another three hours or so. But are you sure? You need to rest and—"

Louis' lips cut him off, pressing lightly against his first, testing, then more firm as Harry melts into it. Kissing Louis has always been a favorite of Harry's. Louis is such a great kisser, and he has amazing lips and Harry can never get enough. Right now is not the time to start a snog session though, and Harry says as much.

With a groan, Louis pushes off Harry's lap, lying back across the sofa and pulling Harry to rest on top of him. "You're no fun," he says, though it's with that certain fondness in his voice that Harry's noticed Louis only uses for him. Louis even pokes Harry's cheek a little on  _fun_.

Harry shrugs a little, catching Louis' hand and holding it in his own before it can fall away. He breaths in Louis' scent, faint cologne from earlier this morning and cinnamon from his car freshener and that certain  _Louis_  smell. It's very calming. Harry could fall asleep like this, if it weren't for the nagging voice in the back of his head making him worry about crushing Louis.

Eventually, he mumbles, "I know," with a sigh. "But I'll be plenty fun on Thursday."

"Thursday..." Louis trails off almost dreamily, like he's been fantasizing about it just as much as Harry has been. Maybe he has...

Harry won't get his hopes up though. He knows Louis' excited for Thursday, just as much as Harry is, but he probably doesn't lie awake at night and think about it, how it'll go. Not like Harry does anyway. Harry's a little embarrassed by it, the fact that his thoughts lately always seem to travel to Thursday. It is their six month anniversary, after all.

"I'm coming to pick you up after work," he informs his boyfriend, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the inside of Louis' wrist. "And we'll go straight to the restaurant from there."

"I guess you'll be dropping me off in the morning too, then?" Louis' other hand rests in the small of Harry's back, under his shirt; his hand is soft and warm and comforting, and Harry closes his eyes, comfortable. Even though he'll end up complaining in a few minutes that he doesn't want to crush Louis, Harry stamps out the voice in his head and lets himself have this—cuddling Louis close like this, hearing Louis' heartbeat beneath his head. It's quite comforting.

"Yeah," he states, and he feels much more relaxed, like he could fall asleep any second now. Well, he hasn't gotten much sleep these past few days anyway, so he's not too upset about falling asleep even though Louis just got back. "I've got a few errands to run for Perrie since she'll be at work with you."

There's a few long moments of silence—Harry knows what Louis' going to say. It's what he always says lately whenever Harry does something for Perrie or Zayn. "The only reason ," Louis starts slowly, his nails digging into the skin of Harry's back a little possessively, "I'll try not complaining this time about you still 'running errands' for them is because Zayn's in Dublin until Sunday."

And, well, even though Harry prepared himself for this, it still stings a little. He  _knows_  it bothers Louis—doing things like helping clean Zayn and Perrie's flat, getting the mail for them when they’re both gone, watering Perrie's flowers that she's become obsessed decorating their flat with, or even going over to make dinner for them. Harry knows this because they've talked about it. Now that Niall's living with Liam and Harry's basically living with Louis, there really shouldn't be any reason that he still cooks for Zayn and Perrie all the time, or why he cleans their flat all the time. That's what Louis thinks, anyway.

And yes, Harry agrees with him, but only to a certain extent. Perrie and Zayn are still his best friends, still his brother and sister, and he will always do things like wash their dirty laundry and leave them fresh-baked sweets when they're both gone. He does all these things for Louis too, so he didn't understand at first why it bothered Louis so much. Now he knows though, that Louis sometimes feels like Harry still wants to live with them rather than Louis.

Harry's already explained to Louis that he loves living with him. Yeah, he misses the late nights watching romcoms with Perrie, misses dancing along to whatever popular song at the time with Zayn while cooking. But they're his beat friends so of course he'll always miss stuff like that with them. But that doesn't mean he'd rather live with them than Louis.

He's about to explain that, probably for the fifth time this month already, but Louis beats him to it. "I know, I know," he sighs, squeezing Harry's hand. "I still worry though... I don't wanna come home and find all your stuff and you gone."

With a start, Harry pushes himself up until he's sitting back against his ankles. His hands settle on Louis' knees as he frowns down at the man, searching his face for—what? He doesn't know. But what he finds is something he doesn't like. Louis should never look this scared or worried about anything, let alone at the same time.

"Why..." Harry takes a deep breath, then continues. "Why on earth do you think that would ever happen? Lou, I like living with you, I really do. I like you and I trust you, like, a lot. Please don't ever think I'd just up and leave for no reason."

Louis sits up too, resting his own hands on Harry's thighs, fingers slipping under the bottoms of his— _Louis'_ —shorts. "But what if you  _do_  have a reason?" There's a bit of panic in his voice now, and Harry frowns even harder at that. "What if I do something that you don't like without realizing it or what if I make you uncomfortable—"

"If," Harry cuts Louis off quickly, needing to calm him down and reassure him. Louis freaking out is making Harry panic a little, and he doesn't want this to go on. "If you ever do something I don't like or if you ever make me uncomfortable, I'm going to talk to you about it, tell you, because that's what people in relationships do. They  _talk_  about things. They don't move out while the other is at work because they're upset, and I won't do that either."

Louis still looks hesitant though; Harry thinks he understands why.

"But what if I push you too far. Like, sexually, or even not sexually. Harry, I love you and I don't want to lose you. I know I shouldn't worry about things like this, but I do and I can't help it."

It's odd how it used to be Harry worrying about things like this—like Louis suddenly not liking Harry, or not liking something he does, or thinking Harry is too clingy or needy—but now it's Louis doing the worrying. Harry's past the point of thinking Louis could dump him any day now. Louis says he's in love with Harry, has been saying so for almost two months now, and they haven't even gone all the way yet.

Harry still worries about little things, like Louis not liking something that he made for dinner, or if he's pleasuring Louis enough in bed, but he hasn't worried about Louis leaving him in a long time.

He just wishes Louis would realize that Harry's not going to leave either.

With a squeeze to each of Louis' knees, Harry say, "You really have nothing to worry about. You are nothing like my ex's, nor will you ever be, and I have no intentions of leaving you at all. I have no intentions of moving out while you're at work either."

His eyes search Harry's frantically, but Louis eventually sighs and settles back against the sofa, pulling Harry down with him again. "I know," he whispers, fingers scratching lightly up and down Harry's back. "I'm sorry. I just—I really want to keep you. I don't want you to think I'm in this just for the sex or for showing you off."

"I don't think that," replies Harry. "I never have, not once, and I never will." He kisses over Louis' collarbones to his left shoulder, then rests his forehead there. Louis' still rubbing his hands along Harry's back soothingly, and soon enough, Harry feels close to falling asleep again.

He can hear Louis' heartbeat slowing, as well as his breathing. Before they both fall asleep though, Harry yawns while getting up. Louis makes grabby hands at him and says, "'M cold."

Chuckling, Harry pulls Louis up from the sofa and drags him down the hall to their bedroom, where he helps Louis out of his fancy work/meeting clothes and into sweats and a band t-shirt. Then they both crawl under the covers, cuddling close.

They've got a little while before they have to meet up with Zayn and Perrie and a nap sounds really nice, especially now that Louis is home. The bed won't feel too big, to empty and cold, not with Louis filling it up. Harry nuzzles his nose against Louis' neck; it's warm, especially with the covers draped over them, but Harry wouldn't have it any other way.

His thoughts wander away though, back to him still doing household chores for his best friends even though he doesn't live with them anymore. Harry lived with them for what seems like forever, and he always had the nagging feeling that he was somewhat of a burden. He dragged them through two rough relationships and break ups, threw different jobs firing him because he kept having panic attacks, and he knows he was a pain in general. Yeah, he cleaned obsessively and cooked all the time, but he was always whiney and freaking out about the littlest things.

They always told him he wasn't a burden, that they loved living with him and would be terribly sad when he moved out. But Harry didn't believe them half the time. Before he and Louis got together, Harry had been saving up half of every paycheck and he was secretly looking around for a cheap one-bedroom flat for himself.

Slowly over time he'd been staying at Louis' more and more and leaving his stuff over at Louis'. When he finally did decide to sleep in his own bed, after more than two weeks of not, both Perrie and Zayn thought he and Louis might've been fighting because they thought he was "already living over there".

When he asked Louis about it, Louis assumed the same thing, not that they were fighting, but they lived together already. It was news, quite so, but Harry didn't complain one bit. Ever since, the flat has become more LouisandHarry.

The thing is, even though he was set on moving out because he knew Zayn and Perrie needed their own space, as well as room to grow together as a couple without a third-wheel best friend taking up their time, Harry still misses them like crazy. There isn't a day where he doesn't see at least one of them, even if it's just briefly, but he misses them and he misses doing stuff for them, and maybe, just a little, he might feel bad for leaving all the chores for them and leaving all the cooking to them. He always cleaned and cooked for them because they worked all the time.

And now that Harry doesn't live there anymore he can't do all that for them. He thinks it's only natural that he feels bad for not having hot meal for them every day when they get home from work. That's why he sneaks over there during the days when he doesn't have to be at the CD shop, while Louis and Perrie and Zayn are all at work, so he can do the dishes and iron their work clothes and water the flowers.

Zayn and Perrie both know, of course they do. One or both of them will text a bunch of hearts and/or Xs at the end of the day. Perrie's even pulled him aside when they were all having dinner to thank him.

Harry has a feeling that they know he's doing it secretively too, because they never mention anything about it around Louis.

He feels bad for not saying anything to Louis. Louis is his boyfriend and they're supposed to tell each other everything, but he hates upsetting Louis, doesn't want to disappoint him. It's another thing he still worries about.

Without realizing it, Harry's not slept at all and it's already been an hour. Louis' soft snoring fills the otherwise silent room. Harry thinks he's the most adorable sleeper, fringe ruffled, lips pouty, so he's a bit reluctant while waking him up.

"Lou," he whispers, nudging his side a little. Louis snuffles, face scrunching up, and he squirms around a little. His arms settle around Harry more tightly, pulling him close, and Harry chuckles a little as he nudges Louis' side again. "Louis, babe," he says again. "Gotta get up. We need to get ready soon."

With furrowed eyebrows, Louis mumbles, "For what?" while rubbing at his eyes.

Tingles run down Harry's spine at the roughness of his boyfriend's voice, but he ignores those thoughts and sits up so he can peer down at the beauty in their bed. "Dinner with Zayn and Perrie, remember?"

Louis peaks one eye open up at Harry, long eyelashes throwing shadows over his cheek. "We going to that one Indian place I like?"

"Pfft. As if we'd go anywhere else." Harry rolls his eyes—he really has come out of his shell. He's more comfortable around Louis than he is around Zayn and Perrie now. Well... maybe.

Louis sits up too, nudging Harry's shoulder with his own, then stretches his arms high above his head. He really is amazing.

Before either of them move to get out of bed, Harry holds Louis' hands in both of his and says, "I don't want to move out. I don't want to leave you either. I just—"

"Harry," Louis cuts in with kind eyes and a soft smile. "It's fine. I understand that you miss them and all that, and that I'm probably stupid for worrying abo—"

"You're not stupid. Please don't ever think that." Then, with a deep breath, he adds, "I miss them, living with them. Of course I do. But  _you're_  my  _boyfriend_  and I  _love_  living with you. I love taking care of you, cooking for you and making sure the flat is clean when we have random guests. Me still doing those things for Zayn and Perrie doesn't mean I  _don't_  want to do them for you... I just feel bad, is all."

Louis squints at him, like he's trying to figure it all out by just looking at him. Harry knows that won't work, and he braces himself, gets ready to explain. "You feel bad? Harry, what on earth are you on about?"

"I feel bad," Harry repeats. "I always made sure they had healthy meals instead of take-out all the time, like they would've and probably do now because of how much they work. And they were always so thankful whenever they had clean clothes in the morning. They both work so much and I feel bad that I can't be there to help them with all that."

Now that's he's finally said it, Harry feels much better. Telling Louis things that are on his mind has always been relieving. Louis always listens and never interrupts unless he absolutely has to; Harry really did get lucky this time with this boyfriend. Hopefully it'll be his last time, last boyfriend.

Louis' gazing at him with sad yet fond eyes, and Harry would kind of like to kiss him right now. He always wants to kiss Louis. For now, Harry will settle on waiting patiently for Louis' reply.

"You're too sweet," is what he ends up saying, while squeezing Harry's hands. "I love you, you know that?"

Before Harry can process it, he's tucked into Louis' side in a warn hug, Louis' hands warm on his shoulder and hip, lips soft against Harry's forehead. Harry sighs, snuggling close. "I know," he says quietly, his own arms linking around Louis' waist.

"Perrie and Zayn are lucky to have you as a best friend, and I'm lucky to have you as a boyfriend."

Groaning, Harry pushes Louis away and grumbles, "Stop being so sappy. Save that for Thursday."

"Harry Styles, I  _know_  you did not just push me away while I was opening my heart up to you." His voice is smug though, like he's about to attack Harry, so Harry knows he really isn't offended.

With a giggle, Harry leaps up from the bed, just barely slipping away from Louis' hands and running down the hall. Louis' hot on his tail, like always whenever they get like this, and Harry's laughing already. He can't help it—getting chased by Louis has always been fun, whether it was when they first started dating, or when Louis' horny, or when Louis' threatening to tickle him, like now.

Louis tackles Harry to the couch, sitting on his thighs and attacking his sides. Harry laughs like crazy thrashes around in hopes of knocking Louis off or something. No such luck, he knows. Louis has a lot of siblings; he's used to doing this kind of thing.

When Louis finally lets up, just splaying his fingers over Harry's stomach, he says, "You're lucky you made me promise or I'd be grinding you to the couch right now."

Harry shivers, his spine tingling. "But—"

"Yeah, I know.  _Nothing sexual until Thursday, I promise_ ," he quotes himself in a slightly deeper voice. Then, Louis leans down, pressing a soft kiss to each of Harry's cheeks, before getting up and pulling Harry with him. "I'm only keeping my promise because I know you have something...  _special_  planned for Thursday and I don't want to lose that surprise."

Harry knows Louis suspects what he has planned for Thursday, but he still only shrugs and kisses Louis briefly, in hopes of keeping Louis in the dark for at least a little longer. "Only three more days," he says. "Come on, let's go get ready. Don't want to accidentally keep Z and Pez waiting."

Harry can see the smug in Louis' eyes as he follows him back to the bedroom; he ignores it in favor of getting to dress his favorite boy.

-

Harry gets a lot of texts and calls from friends and family congratulating him and Louis on their sixth month. Louis tells him he's getting the same treatment when he calls on his lunch break.

It's something that makes Harry smile, knowing they have so much support from everybody around them. It keeps him going through the day. He doesn't mind cleaning around Zayn and Perrie's flat, normally loves it, but today it's harder to do so. Harry's mind travels off to his boyfriend more often than not, to how much he misses him, how much he can't wait for later tonight.

But it's keeping him busy, so that's why he hasn't gone home yet. He's not been scheduled to work on Thursdays for quite a while, over a month, actually. Harry's lucky that their anniversary fell on a Thursday. He's lucky, yes, but also kind of wishes he  _did_  have to work. Spending almost the whole day away from his boyfriend when they're supposed to be together is tough.

It helps that Louis keeps texting him throughout the day, whether it be sneakily in the middle of a meeting, something stupid that happened in the break room, or especially when Louis is finally alone in his office and nobody can look over his shoulder as he sends a litany of super sappy texts.

When he finally gets back to their flat, Harry makes sure everything there is clean too. Especially the bedroom. Tonight has to be perfect; if it isn't Harry doesn't know what he'll do. It's been a while since he's planned a date for him and Louis, and he finally convinced Louis a few days ago to let him do it this time. He already has dinner reservations for them later, a bouquet of white lilies waiting at the flower shop just a few streets away from Louis' workplace, and Louis' gift wrapped neatly, stuffed under the seat in his car just like with the scarf when they first got together.

Harry's more excited than ever for tonight. He's going to tell Louis he loves him.

Louis is gorgeous and funny and so so sweet. He always puts Harry before himself, and he makes Harry feel so loved. Louis has been saying I Love You to Harry for quite a while now, and Harry knows he loves Louis back just as much, so he figures tonight will be the perfect night to tell him.

As well as the perfect night for other things, but he can't dwell on those thoughts for too long, especially since Louis is calling.

"Hey," he answers, falling back on the bed with a soft sigh.

Louis' voice trickles down the line very cheerily as he says, "Hi babe. You back to the flat?"

"Mhm," Harry answers. He shifts around, toeing his boots off and crawling under the covers. They smell like Louis, something that Harry's always been glad about when he's at the flat alone. "Resting, yeah."

Louis groans. "I wish I could take a nap too. But Pezza just called us in for another meeting in a few."

"Then why are you calling? I don't want you to be late or anything."

Harry thinks back to the last time he made Louis late for a meeting. It wasn't his fault anyway. No, it was Louis' fault for begging Harry to finger him for the first time even though he had work in an hour. It was dragged out for much longer than it should have been, but Harry was nervous as fuck—he figures anybody would be in a situation like that—although Louis swears to this day that "it was more amazing than I could've hoped for".

"I told you: I've got a few minutes and it's just right down the hall. Don't worry your pretty little head about me. Not just yet, anyway." The teasing lilt in his voice has Harry squirming against the sheets, tugging the duvet down to his waist so he can get some air.

Harry would be embarrassed for letting just a few words get to him, but Louis' right. Harry doesn't have to worry about anything right now except maybe getting a quick nap. Plus, he is  _not_  going to let Louis turn him on right now. That's for later.

Deciding to change the subject, Harry asks, "Italian is alright, yeah? I mean, I've had the reservations made for a few days now but I just wanted to be sure."

Thankfully, Louis doesn't call him out on it. "I love Italian, you know this," he says instead, then he adds more quietly, "Can't wait for tonight. You're gonna get so many kisses."

 _And your cock_ , Harry doesn't say. Louis has to be at a meeting; he doesn't want to throw him off and he wants to keep it a secret.

"I can't wait," replies Harry, just as quietly. Then, because he really will feel bad if Louis' late because of him, he says, "I'm hanging up now. You need to work. I'll see you later, yeah? Byyeeeee."

Louis barely gets a, "But—" before Harry hangs up.

He lasts barely ten seconds before feeling so bad that he has so send Louis a selfie of himself happy and smiling, half his face buried in Louis' picture.  _Miss you already xx_ , the caption says, with a couple smileys tacked on to the end.

-

Harry is ready a whole hour before he has to pick Louis up. When he realizes how ridiculous this is, he strips back down to the black, lace-trimmed thong he bought especially for tonight, and settles on the chair in the corner of their room.

The bed has freshly cleaned sheets covering it, Louis' other present is in the bedside drawer, and all of Harry's nerves are jumping—with excitement, that is. He's so excited to see Louis, to finally hug him and kiss him after a whole day of just calls and texts. He's so excited that it stamps down any nervous feelings he has about tonight.

Although Louis had protested at first (" _You_  asked  _me_  to be your boyfriend and  _you_  took  _me_  on the nice fancy date. I know it's been forever but I still think  _I_  should be the one to take  _you_  out."

Harry only rolled his eyes and said back, "Yes, but I have that day off and you don't." He then proceeded to lick Louis out until he was almost crying against the pillows, and Louis hasn't argued about it ever since) Harry knows he just as excited for what Harry has planned as Harry is. Every time Harry's brought it up, or even one of their friends, Louis schools his expression into one of nonchalance, but Harry can see the enthusiasm, the  _eagerness_  swimming in his eyes.

That's also another thing that's kept Harry from freaking out over whether or not Louis will love tonight. He knows how delighted Louis actually is for tonight, despite his previous actions.

Louis is texting him nonstop now, either sending selfies or pictures of the little work he has left until he's done for the day. It's when in one of Louis' texts he claims only fifteen minutes until he's done ( _I love you so much, cant wait to se you in 15 xxxxx_ ) that Harry finally makes one last check that everything is in order and redresses.

Perrie and Zayn both came over last week when Louis and Liam and Niall were all meeting with Simon for lunch, and they helped Harry decide on what to wear. He never cares anymore about what he puts on in the mornings, he knows Louis will love him no matter what, but for tonight he needs the perfect outfit. If everything goes well, spending an hour modeling for Zayn what Perrie picked out will have been totally worth it.

The tight white jeans (jeggings, because they're easier to get on, and off, according to Perrie and her stupid winks) match perfectly with the sheer black button up that's see-through and that he only buttons up halfway. He'd been hesitant about white jeans at first—white jeans with a black thong? Harry isn't  _that_  desperate. But both Perrie and Zayn insisted that the white jeggings material was thick enough and they couldn't see the thong underneath.

Anyway, Harry is wearing the few bracelets Louis has gotten him over the months. They're cute little things with simple charms or designs that Louis said made him think of Harry, and Harry only ever wears them on special occasions, not wanting to lose or break them like he's bound to do. As well as his cross necklace, plain silver chain, and black boots, Harry deems himself ready enough and sprits himself with Louis' favorite cologne before finding his keys and phone, and making his way to his car parked right outside.

His phone buzzes when he's only a few streets away from Louis' work; it's Louis, he knows it is, probably texting that he's finally done and waiting. It makes Harry drive a little faster. Harry spots Perrie first, her bright orange-ish/red hair standing out against the brick building. Then Louis, who's already all dressed up and smiling brightly.

A few other people who Harry doesn't recognize are leaving the building, but Harry keeps his attention on his boyfriend as he pulls to a stop in front of the building. He can see the moment Louis sees him, because his eyes light up even brighter in the light coming from the setting sun in the west, and because Louis is walking away from Perrie and towards the car.

Harry gets out before Louis makes it over speeding up his walking a little to meet him half way. Louis' eyes stay trained on Harry the whole time, running down the expanse of his body multiple times and making Harry blush a little under his gaze.

Louis immediately wraps Harry in a tight hug, and Harry buries his nose is Louis' hair and breaths in as he squeezes back just as tightly. He's missed Louis so much today, and hugging him close is the best thing he can do right now to calm his racing heart.

"Missed you so much," he breaths into Louis' hair.

In reply, Louis tugs on one of the belt loops on Harry's jeggings and whispers, lips right against Harry's ear, "Fucking white jeans. You're such a menace. Trying to kill me, I swear."

Harry feels his stomach jump and the roughness of Louis' voice, and he has to bite his lip to keep from shuddering. "Not trying to kill you," he murmurs eventually, "Just trying to woo my favorite boyfriend."

"Your only boyfriend," Louis corrects.

Then, before Harry can sneak a quick kiss from Louis, Perrie is clapping them both on the backs and saying, "Don't get into too much trouble tonight." Her gaze is pointed right at Louis, but Harry can tell in her voice that it's for the both of them. "Don't want anybody crying in the morning."

Louis scoffs. "Perrie, you underestimate my love for this boy—" His hand squeezes Harry's hip, "—The only time he'll come home crying to you is when I propose."

Air gets caught in Harry's throat as he coughs, nudging Louis' hip with his own. They haven't talked about marriage, except for when they were planning Perrie and Zayn's surprise wedding. But not once have they spoken about themselves getting married to each other. Harry hasn't even said I Love You to Louis yet.

"Whoa, babe." Louis pats Harry's back until his breathing is back to normal. He looks worried; that isn't what Harry wants though. He wants Louis happy, so he quickly tucks himself back into Louis' side, whispering, "We need to go," and trying not to shudder as Louis' hand slips into his back pocket.

It's a possessive and cute thing Louis does sometimes. Harry absolutely loves it.

"We need to go," Louis copies, turning to face Perrie who's been oddly quiet these past few minutes.

Perrie smiles, though there's a glint in her eyes pointed towards Harry that he wishes weren't there. He has a vague idea of what Perrie is smug about. He wishes they'd just go already.

"Right, yeah," she says slowly, fingers coming up to twirl her orange curls like they've got all the time in the world. "You two have a date to get to, don't you? I almost forgot..."

"No, you didn't," Harry groans, and he hears Louis snicker beside him. He hates being teased and they both know this, but today is a happy day so Harry refuses to get upset. "Don't want to be late though. They'll give our table away."

 _That_  seems to kick things into gear, Perrie standing up straighter and looking a little guilty. "Right  yeah." She hugs them both before turning in the direction of the employee parking garage. "You two better go," she yells over her shoulder.

Harry and Louis walk quietly back to the car, and Harry, ever the gentleman, opens Louis' door for him before running back to his own side. Harry is super aware of the small box under his seat; this all feels so familiar.

After starting the car and before Harry can pull out into the traffic, Louis' hand comes over to grab his from the steering wheel. Their fingers tangle together instantly, easily, like that's how it's always been. It basically has always been like that; Harry hopes it always will be.

"H," Louis whispers, and Harry bites his lip as he looks over at his boyfriend. His eyes are such a beautiful sparkling blue, the sun glinting off them, warming up his tan face. Harry squeezes Louis' hand, urging him on. Louis squeezed back, before leaning forward and kissing Harry sweetly, though it's quick. He's settles back into the passenger seat before Harry can even react.

When Louis raises an expectant eyebrow at him, Harry shakes his head—he knows his smile is huge—to sort himself out, then focuses on pulling out into the slightly busy traffic. And, not surprisingly, only a minute later, Louis' fingers stretch out over Harry's thigh warm through the white denim.

He chances a quick glance over at Louis, who looks happy, if a little smug, staring at the car in front of them. From there until they get to the restaurant, Louis' hand stays exactly where it is, and neither of them say a thing. Coldplay plays softly in the background, one of Harry's playlists hooked up through the speakers from his phone. It's nice, calming. Harry already loves this evening and they haven't even been seated yet.

When they are being seated, Harry's hand comes up to settle in the small of Louis' back, guiding him along behind their hostess. The shirt he's wearing is soft, not like silk, but still soft all the same. It's white with little birds all over it, and although it's similar to a design Harry would love, the shirt itself fits snug to Louis' torso, cuffed and showing off his biceps. The black slacks he's wearing are tight enough that Harry has to force his gaze to stay up, over Louis' shoulder. His fringe is swooped casually, yet not so casually, and eyes brighter than ever.

All in all, Louis' the spectacle of beauty; Harry couldn't wait to get his hands on him.  _Later_ , he tells himself in his head, smiling politely to the hostess as she sets their menus down and tells them their waiter will be with them shortly.

The next time he looks up, after looking through all the main entrees, Louis is staring at him over his own menu, mirth and delight flooding his blue blue eyes. Harry raises his eyebrows, clasping his hands together in his lap and leaning forward so the family at the next table won't hear what Louis has to say. From the look in his eyes, Harry knows the likelihood of it not being family-appropriate is about ninety six percent. And that's not a number to be played with.

As expected, Louis' voice starts soft, faking innocence. "How've you been today, babe?" he asks quietly, reaching a hand across the table, palm up.

"Missed you a lot," Harry admits truthfully as he brings his own hand up to tangle in Louis'. His hand is warm, skin soft, and Harry sighs happily. He's not so lonely anymore, now that he's got Louis smiling across from him, Louis ankles tangled with his under the table, and the promise of a perfect night ahead.

Louis hums in response. "Missed me so much, hm? Couldn't keep your eyes off me while we were being seated." Harry blushes right to the tips of his ears, thankful for Louis keeping his voice quiet, but frustrated that there's that certain...  _venom_  in his voice that he  _knows_  will make Harry weak at the knees in an instant. Louis smirks, squeezing Harry's hand, then saying, "I'm not blind Harold. Three weeks, almost, is a long time. I'm honestly surprised you've held out this long," and then he's leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, face smug as ever as their waiter clears his throat.

Harry, with his burning cheeks and frustrated demeanor, quickly takes a deep breath and schools his face in a polite smile as he looks up. "Hello," their waiter starts after smiling back. "I'm Emmett and I'll be your waiter today. What can I start you off with to drink today?"

Harry glares at Louis as they chose which wine they'll be sharing, and Louis only smirks a little harder. It's irritating, but not in a way that actually angers Harry. More like he wants to wrap his fingers around Louis' throat for a few seconds to throttle him, but then he'd kiss where his hands were and smile if Louis maybe liked it too much—

And damnit, there it is again, that part of his brain that he's shut down for the past almost three weeks because he wants tonight to be perfect.

They tell the waiter they need a few more minutes to decide, and once he's out of earshot, Harry leans across the table and whispers, "You've tried almost every other day to get in my pants and I haven't once. You don't get to talk to me about 'holding out'."

"Well I'm sorry if I'm in love with my boyfriend and sucking him off in the morning is one of my favorite ways to show it." Harry's breath hitches on  _in love_. It's a wonderful thing, hearing Louis say that and seeing the absolute truth behind those words in his eyes. Harry smiles, unable to be angry (even though he never really was) with Louis anymore. Yeah, Louis teases, but in the end, Harry knows it's all fun and games and the end results are very wonderful, whether that be love confessions or messy orgasms. "It's true," Louis adds, smiling his own special smile at Harry.

"Yeah, I—um—I know." God, just saying  _I Know_  in response to Louis'  _I Love You_  is painful, but Harry has a plan and he's sticking to it, even if it means seeing Louis try not to cringe one last time. "It's really wonderful to hear you say that," he adds after a beat, reaching for Louis' hands and squeezing them both. "Makes me really happy."

At that Louis smiles his full smile, with teeth and crinkles by his eyes, and Harry sort of loses his breath. Louis is beautiful—more than beautiful: magnificent—but he won't say that out loud, doesn't want to sound too cocky or cheesy.

"Well good," Louis replies after a few long seconds, his gaze heavy and fond, "because I don't plan to stop saying that for a  _very_  long time."

Just like always whenever he says I Love You or I'm In Love With You or anything along those lines, he doesn't push it when Harry doesn't say it back. Louis doesn't ask why he won't say it; he always smiles and kisses Harry or cuddles him. Like he knows Harry isn't ready— _wasn't_  ready. Harry is very grateful for that because he doesn't think he'd be able to explain to Louis why he wasn't saying it back. Not until now, anyway.

Harry smiles back, then bites his lip and ducks his head as he feels a blush coming on. Damn Louis and that gaze he  _knows_  can get Harry hard in seconds. On second thought, Harry looks back up and glares at Louis, pulling his feet away from Louis' under the table and his hands away to settle in his lap. He sits up straight, shoulders squared, and makes sure his expression is still irritation.

Louis looks confused at first, then a bit irritated himself as he copies Harry's posture. His hands are clasped together on the table though.

He has no right to be irritated or angry though. Not at all, and Harry thinks it's a little rude that he is right now. Making sure his voice is quiet and calm, Harry says, "This is a date Louis. A nice date that I've been looking forward too for a long time. I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop thinking with your dick, at least until we get home."

Louis visibly startles, eyes wide and jaw dropped. He doesn't look upset at Harry's words, more like he realized something. Harry is still a bit irritated though. He knows Louis' been waiting a long time—he has been too, the same amount of time, and it's been torture sleeping next to Louis every night and waking up to a wet Louis fresh out of the shower every morning... and not being able to do anything about it.

But he's been able to hold back, for very specific reasons. Just a couple more hours wouldn't hurt. Louis doesn't have to go making eyes at Harry every five minutes. He  _knows_ , Harry really does. And even though Louis doesn't know why Harry's been holding back, Harry'd still appreciate some respect on the matter.

With a small sigh, Harry glances out the window their table is next to, following the path of a bird from tree to tree around the edges of the parking lot. He's startled by the sudden hands on his knee and elbow, turning him and his chair so he's facing— _Louis?!_

Louis, who's now on his knees in front of Harry, and pulls him down for a tight hug once Harry isn't dizzy anymore. Louis' fingers scratch up and down Harry's back, then his palms go flat as he pulls Harry closer, nose buried in Harry's curls. Of course Harry hugs back; he's never been able to resist hugging Louis. His arms settle around Louis' shoulders, nose and fingers in his soft hair. There are a couple people staring at them with odd looks. Harry says as much, but he doesn't move to let go.

"I don't give a fuck if people are staring, H." Louis hugs him even tighter, voice soft right against his ear. Soothing, Harry thinks. He smiles a little. "I don't care if the whole world is staring right now. You're my boyfriend and I love you and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like all I want from you is sex. I just like teasing, you know this, but I never meant to upset you."

Louis leans back just enough so they can see each other and—wait. His eyes are slightly more watery, broken, than they were just a minute ago. What? "Lou." Harry wipes a thumb under Louis' eye even though it's dry, and kisses his forehead. "I know you were just teasing. I just want a nice evening without that for a couple hours, yeah? I'm not upset anymore."

"You have every right to be though," Louis argues. He still looks torn up about this. Harry wishes he knew what was upsetting Louis this badly so he could fix it. He finds out, and it surprises him, to say the least. "I don't want you to think I'm just a selfish, horny jerk because I'm  _not_. I love you so much." He hugs Harry again.

And, well. Harry knows now. He's always known Louis' mission is to make Harry happy, to make Harry feel like he's the most important in the world. He always tries his hardest to not turn into Harry's exes. Harry knows Louis would never be like them, but he's never been against Louis trying his absolute best to make Harry happy. What he didn't know, not up until now, is how serious Louis' been taking this.

Never once has Louis made Harry feel any less than wanted. Harry always feels like number one around Louis, is always happy, even if he's upset. That's just who Louis is; he can makes Harry happy without even trying to.

Harry never meant that Louis was acting like his ex's did, just showing up for sex and sometimes food. He  _knows_  Louis isn't like that, or will he ever be.

And he now knows how upset Louis is, now that he thinks he might've made Harry feel even just an inkling of what his ex's did. It doesn't sit right with him and he's quick to fix it.

"Lou," Harry whispers, cupping Louis' cheeks in both hands and nuzzling their noses together, "You're not selfish, and although you may be horny, you aren't a jerk either. Not once have you ever made me feel anything less than perfect, yeah? I  _know_  you love me, truly, and I don't want you to ever think that you're anything less than perfect to me."

"Yeah, but—"

"No, Louis. No buts. You aren't allowed to beat yourself up over things like this, alright?" Louis still looks hesitant, but Harry repeats himself, "Alright?" and Louis nods.

His blue eyes are soft and his smile is a little wider than before. "Alright, yeah," he agrees finally, and Harry drops one of his hands to Louis' on his thigh and squeezes. It's quiet for a few long seconds before Louis adds, "I am sorry though. I promise to be good until we get home."

He can't help but snicker at that a little. Louis is always good, always perfect, but whenever he promises something like that Harry always finds it amusing. Yes, Louis might be 'good' in the sense that he won't tease Harry sexually until they get home, but that means Louis will either spend his time being a complete nuisance, or teasing Harry in other ways.

"Good." Harry taps Louis' cheeks, sending a glance at the people around them. Most are staring, quiet, and Harry gets an odd feeling because of that. Also, their waiter is standing with their bottle of wine just a few tables away, watching, looking a bit awkward. "Might wanna get back in your seat, love. People are staring. And our waiter is waiting."

Louis seems to realize that he is still on the floor. He quickly gets up, dusting off his knees. His hands automatically come across the table to hold Harry's once he's seated in his chair. "I love you," he manages to whisper before their waiter, Emmett, Harry remembers, is sliding up in front of their table.

"Did you just... did you just propose?" Emmett asks Louis as he pops out the cork from their wine.

Both Harry and Louis startle, Harry feeling a huge blush rush down his face and chest and up to the tips of his ears, as he bites his lip to keep from smiling and keeps his eyes trained on the table. Louis, who's ankles tangle with Harry's under the table even more, chuckles a little and answers, "Oh no, Emmett. I was just apologizing to Haz here." He chuckle a little, and Harry peeks up under his eyelashes and the curtain of curls he hasn't put up yet. "I don't plan on proposing for a while. Don't think either of us are ready for it just yet."

And, well.  _Just yet_  are words Harry didn't think he'd hear, like, ever. He smiles all the same, ducking his head again to hide his blush. Thank goodness for long hair. It probably did look a lot like that. Harry would've had a heart attack if Louis had proposed. Louis is right: Harry isn't ready for anything like that.

"Oh. Alright." Emmett pours them both their wine, then re-corks the bottle and puts it in fancy basket attached to the side of the table. "It just looked a lot like that's what you were doing... Anyway, are you two ready to order?"

Oh, right. Food. The main reason they're here. Luckily, Harry had looked at the restaurant's menu online ahead of time, so he says, "I am. Not sure about Lou here though. Don't think he's actually looked at the menu yet."

"Oh that's fine," Louis says before their waiter could reply. "You just order. I’ll have the same thing."

For a second Harry stares at Louis. This date is supposed to be about Louis—well, both of them, actually, but in Harry's mind it's all about Louis tonight. Louis should browse the menu and choose something that he wants to eat, not just assume that whatever Harry gets is good enough.

"Order, Harry," Louis says firmly, and, well, Harry can't disobey Louis, can he? (He can, but he doesn't want to, is the thing.)

So he tells their waiter what they'll be eating without taking his eyes off Louis across him. Once their waiter is gone, Louis takes a sip of the wine they ordered and smiles. "It's good," he comments quietly.

Harry tries the wine too. It is good, better than a lot of other's they've tried before. Harry's reminded of all the times they were out and decided to try something new, how almost every time what they picked was disgusting but they brought it home anyway and gave it to Niall and Liam. He remembers how much fun they had, after letting Niall talk them into getting drunk, when Niall would break out the gross wine and they'd all do "shots" with it.

Smiling at the memories, Harry sips some more at the drink, then looks back across at his boyfriend. "I'm glad it's good," he starts with, smiling, "We'll keep the whole bottle for ourselves this time."

Something shoots through Louis' eyes, like he's remembering too, and he smiles and nods in agreement. "Definitely," he says, "Maybe we can turn one of the cupboards into a wine cabinet and start saving the good bottles we find."

"We'd have to get a lock and alarm on it though. Can't let Niall anywhere near it."

"Oh whatever." Louis chuckles. His toe scuffs against Harry's ankle and half way up his calf, then down, then back up again  as he swirls the wine in his glass around casually. The innocent expression he wears does nothing to hide the glint in his eyes; Louis knows exactly what he does to Harry and he's amused by it.

Well, whatever. Harry can handle a few more hours of teasing and smugness if it means this night being perfect.

When their waiter comes back with their food and Louis' startled from explaining the break room fiasco from this morning, Harry rubs his thumb over the vein on the back of Louis' hand, before pulling back to settle his napkin over his lap. It looks and smells delicious, and Louis must be thinking the same thing since he makes a sound so close to a moan that Harry has to kick him under the table.

"Sorry. This pasta looks so good though," the man pleads. Harry rolls his eyes but he's smiling, stirring the fork around the pasta noodles and taking a bite. It tastes even better than it smells. Harry made the right choice.

Neither of them say anything as they eat their way through the pasta on their plates and drink almost half the bottle of wine. Although that doesn't mean they don't interact. Louis is still playing footsie with him under the table, and every time Harry looks up he catches Louis' bright eyes and soft smile. If Harry were watching them as a different person, he'd say they're the cutest couple in the restaurant—there are quite a few that Harry can see anyway. But Harry thinks that all the time, even when he's being insecure, that he and Louis are the cutest couple ever. Tied with ZaynandPerrie and NiallandLiam, of course.

About half way through, though, Harry asks Louis about his busy day at work, because even though the silence isn't awkward, Harry still wants to talk to Louis. Talking to Louis is one of his favorite things.

(He has a lot of favorite things that have to do with Louis these days, Harry comes to realize. He doesn't mind at all.)

It's amusing, listening to Louis' animated talking, watching Louis' hand gestures that half the time have nothing to do with what he's saying. His eyes are bright as he talks about whatever meeting he had earlier this morning.

Harry's so happy for Louis, knowing that he's happy with where he works. Not that Harry isn't because he is. Happy, that is. Working at a CD shop is fun. Maybe it's not what he had in mind back in uni—he took as many classes as he could about music/song-writing/anything related. But not singing because he isn't a fan of singing in front of others. So yeah, selling CDs and old records may not have been ideal, but it's still fun. Being happy with his job, even though the pay isn't necessarily the best, and living with the boy he loves, who's also very happy with his job, is something he'd occasionally daydream about back in uni.

Louis kicks his leg, lightly, of course, and says, "Earth of Harry," while also waving a hand in his face.

Harry blinks away his thoughts, the restaurant and his beautiful Louis coming back into view. Their plates are gone and Emmett is standing at their table. "Sorry." He blushes slightly. "M'mind wandered."

"Emmett here was just wondering if we were having desert," Louis explains. His eyes are twinkling in a way that has Harry squirming again, although this time the tingles at the base of his spine are very welcome. "It's up to you babe," he adds.

Knowing exactly what Louis is thinking, and agreeing with him, Harry shifts and lies, "I made some pie earlier. It's in the fridge at home."

Louis' smirk intensifies, and he looks up at Emmett. "We just need this bottle boxed up—" he gestures towards their half-empty wine bottle, "—and our check, please and thank you."

Their waiter takes the bottle, smiles at them both as Harry hands over his card without even checking the amount, then wanders off.

When Harry looks back up at Louis, Louis is smiling knowingly as he asks, "You didn't make a pie, did you?"

Harry decides there's no point in lying; Louis already knows the answer anyway. "Nope," he states, popping the 'p'. Louis smirks.

Their waiter returns with the wine in a fancy box in one hand and Harry's card and their receipt in the other. Once he's set it all down and is out of ear shot, Louis takes a few bills out of his own wallet, setting them on the table. That's always how it goes whenever they go someplace nice—the one not paying the bill will tip their waiter/waitress without question. Harry smiles at Louis, marveling at their compatibility, then pushes his chair away from the table to get up.

Louis follows suit, taking the hand Harry offers happily and trailing behind. They get a few odd looks from other patrons they pass—probably because of Louis looking like he proposed earlier—and Harry just squeezes Louis' hand tighter as they pass through the front doors.

It's dark outside, the moon and stars somewhat hidden by thin, transparent clouds dotted here and there. It's nice out, just a bit windy, and Harry squeezes Louis' hand again while they step up to their car.

Thinking it'll earn him more brownie points, Harry goes to open Louis' door for him, but he's rudely—or not, he realizes soon enough—stopped. His back is against the side of the car, but he's only confused on how he got like that for the few seconds it takes his eyes to focus on how close Louis is. Close enough to kiss, to feel the heat radiating from him, that is

Harry's hands link together behind Louis' neck on their own accord, and Louis stumbles forward until their bodies are aligned, foreheads pressed together. Even with the moon only half shining, Harry can still see Louis' eyes clearly, shining a delicate blue. They're fond, he notes, staring right back at Harry while Louis' bottom lip catches between his teeth.

And that's the thing, isn't it, that always gets Harry. Even though he specifically asked for Louis to hold off until they got home. Louis biting his lip with the most honest eyes will always stir something in the pit of Harry's stomach, stir it awake with no return in sight. Fuck, but Louis looks so good right now, skin so soft; Harry's almost more excited to get Louis in bed than for what he's about to do.

"God, H," blurts Louis before Harry can start, and he surges forward, pressing their lips together fiercely. Harry can't help the small noise that slips—Louis' lips on his will always make him weak—and he kisses back just as eagerly, shuddering when Louis' hands slip down, squeeze his hips, then slip further to his bum. "I know—" he pants a little, "—I know you wanted to wait until later, but— _fuck_. You look so good in these white fucking jeggings."

"Yeah?" Harry isn't insecure (most days); he knows how good he must look in Louis' eyes in what he's wearing tonight. But it's still nice to hear a second time, always nice. Harry loves when Louis praises him, especially in bed.

Louis hums in agreement, spreading his fingers over Harry's bum cheeks as much as he can. "So beautiful Harry," he whispers against Harry's lips.

Harry lets Louis kiss him again and just as deeply as before, tangling his fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of Louis' neck. Louis pulls away though, pressing a few quick kisses to Harry's cheek, then taking a small step back as he murmurs, "Later." Harry knows it was more to himself and he finds it quite adorable.

To his surprise, Louis opens the passenger door and, carefully, shoves Harry in the passenger seat. When Louis is settled in the driver seat, seatbelt on, car on, and about to pull out of the parking lot, Harry puts a hand high on his thigh and says, "I'm supposed to be driving, you know." At the look Louis sends him, he adds, "I'm wining and dining you. It would make me feel better if I drove you home."

"Yes," Louis replies, "But I need something to distract me from you right now. If I drive I won't try to pounce you every second."

Harry sighs, knowing this is true. For the sake of not wanting to crash the car and because he loves Louis, he links his fingers over Louis' on the shifter, smiles at him, then starts fiddling with the radio.

It isn't until they park in front of their building that Harry remembers Louis' present is still stashed under the driver seat. The thing is, he doesn't want to wait until they get inside upstairs to give it to him. He stops Louie before Louis can get out, then keeps the straightest face he can while reaching under the seat between Louis' legs and grabbing the little box.

"Ooh." Louis wiggles his eyebrows, smirk mischievous, and Harry rolls his eyes.

"Don't get your hopes up. It's only a present." With that, Harry hands the white box to his boyfriend, watching as Louis' eyes go wide and fill with... fond? "It's not the only present, but I wanted to give it to you now."

The first thing Louis says is, "I only got you one thing." Then, after a quick smile to Harry, his eyes sparkle more as he says, "And now I know where you hide my presents."

"Just open your present!" Harry says, sounding more exasperated than anything. He guesses he looked as amused as he was trying to because Louis just smiles at him and flips open the top of the white box.

Inside is a delicate, silver chain necklace with a charm of an H. It too is silver with a very tiny, very intricate design going around the edges. Harry knows how cheesy it probably is and how Louis probably won't wear it very often, if at all but Perrie helped him pick it out and he thought it was a beautiful present. Besides taking an extra fifty pounds out of his savings account to cover the price, Harry is very proud of his gift, very fond, and he thinks it will look lovely against Louis' skin tone.

Nervously, Harry looks up at Louis, only to find him looking very surprised and very amused. "It's beautiful, love," says Louis when he notices Harry looking at him. He slips out a small black box from his pocket—how Harry didn't notice the box in Louis' tight pants, he doesn't know—and hands it to Harry. Now he just looks smug.

Worried because Louis barely reacted, Harry takes the box and flips it open too. For a moment Harry thinks Louis bought him the exact same necklace, but the charm is an L instead. It's all still silver and the edges of the L is designed just like the H. "What?" Harry chuckles, amused and confused.

"Did Perrie help you too?" Louis presses.

Then Harry realizes. "Oh my god, Perrie," he groans, laughing, hands covering his face as he giggles.

"That sneaky twat," Louis chuckles. While Harry's laughs die down, Louis takes out the necklace for Harry, motioning for him to turn around. Harry does, holding his long curls out of the way so Louis can put the L on him. After, Harry does the same for Louis; they're both smiling like crazy after they turn back toward each other, and Louis' hand comes across the console to tangle with Harry's. "Shall we head home then?"

-

"We should call Perrie and complain," Harry says as they're shrugging off shoes and jackets in the foyer.

The lights are all still off, but Harry can see the soft skin of Louis' neck and hands glowing from the moonlight pouring through the open window in the living room. He can see how soft it looks, tan and smooth. He thinks about how his hands will be all over it soon enough.

"We should act drunk," Louis adds, taking Harry's hand and bringing him and the boxed wine to the kitchen. Harry watches as he gets down two wine glasses from the cabinet, stays quiet while Louis pours some for the both of them. Louis turns around and Harry takes the offered glass, sipping at it while Louis does the same and they stare across at each other.

After another sip, Harry says, "Think that'd just amuse her. Give her and Z something to laugh about. And we're trying to stop their cuteness, not amuse them."

"True," Louis nods and replies, tipping his glass towards Harry with a smile, "Guess we can just complain next time we see her."

Very little thought, Harry has, before he's moving across the small kitchen and kissing the smile right off Louis' face. Louis kisses back—like always, soft and slow and so so sweet that he has Harry almost melting to the floor. If it weren't for Louis' arms tight around Harry's waist, he's probably be on the floor already, Louis right along because Harry sure as hell isn't letting go now.

They're both panting when Louis finally pulls back. His eyes are brighter than they have been all night, sparkling in such a way that has Harry weak at the knees—not the first time tonight. Probably not even the tenth time. That's the effect he has on Harry all the time, not matter what, and Harry wouldn't have it any other way.

"I love you," whispers Louis, so soft that Harry almost didn't hear it. He did though, and Harry smiles, bites his lip.

Now is this time, now is definitely the time. All the nerves leave Harry's mind as he pecks Louis once, twice on the mouth, then whispers back, "I love you too," right against said lips.

Louis startles back so far his back hits the table, nudging it a few inches, and Harry snickers as he reaches out for Louis to kiss him again and say  _it_  again. Louis chokes a little on nothing before his hands tangle in Harry's hair, tugging so hard Harry whimpers and stumbles forward against Louis. "Say it again," Louis demands right next to Harry's ear, tugging on his curls once again.

"I love you so much, Lou. So much. I've been waiting so long to tell you. Wanted to wait until tonight, make it perfect." Louis tugs on Harry's hair  _again_ , Harry's knees buckling, his forehead pressing to Louis' neck. They only just got home and already Louis has Harry more than half hard. "Love you, babe. More than anything."

"Fuck— _Harry_ ," Louis whines— _actually_  whines—his hips buck against Harry. He's hard too, harder than Harry was expecting, and it's so hot that he shudders and curls around Louis even more. "God, you just. You love me? Fuck."

"I really do," Harry replies softly. He's still hyper aware of Louis' hand in his curls, dips his head forward a little more to feel the slight tug, revel in the spine-tingling pleasure.

Louis tugs, Harry whimpers, then they both whisper, "Bed," at the same time. It makes them both giggle as they travel from the kitchen to the hallway, attached at the hip because they're in love and hard and the bed is the second best sounding thing right now—next to Louis, that is.

Louis practically throws Harry down on the bed as soon as they're in the room. As Louis' fingers trail along the buttons of Harry's shirt, he says, "Wanna suck you off, make you feel so good, H. Give you everything—anything you want. You deserve the world. The universe—"

Harry giggles, hands wrapping around Louis' wrists to stop them from their useless fumbling. "You've already given me everything I need."

"Not everything you want though," Louis counters, looking so serious now that Harry almost laughs again— _almost_. They're both so in love with each other, but Harry still has enough decency to not laugh at Louis when they're both so desperate for it. "Gonna suck you so good."

His hands are pulling at Harry's shirt, mouth now sucking on his neck, and Harry is so turned on he almost forgets to stop Louis. "Lou," he says, loud enough and with a strong enough hand on Louis' shoulder to get his attention. As Louis looks up, Harry continues, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you know?"

Louis nods looking confused. "What're you on about, love? Do you not want my mouth tonight?"

"I want your mouth every night," he manages to admit without blushing, "But it's not what I had planned for tonight."

Louis rolls his eyes with a fond smile. "You thought through this date more thoroughly than I did with all the dates I planned put together." He presses his lips to Harry's for a few seconds, nipping a bit to make Harry squirm  before saying, "And I've loved every single second. Now—" he sits back on his haunches, trails his hands up and down the insides of Harry's thighs, "—what  _did_  you have in mind?"

At this point Harry's so ready for it he's almost desperate, more excited to finally give himself fully to Louis than he's ever been. It's the easiest thing he's done all night when he looks at Louis pointedly, then looks over at the condoms and lube he'd set out earlier that morning. How Louis hadn't noticed those yet is a mystery Harry doesn't care to unravel until way later.

For now, Harry watches Louis' expression as he confusedly and slowly looks at the bedside table. It takes a second, but Harry can tell when Louis realizes—his eyes go wide, his jaw drops, his nails dig into Harry's thighs and make Harry jerk—all before their lips are crushed together and Louis' hands are even more frantic before. "God, I love you so much. Gonna make you feel so good. Promise."

Before Harry knows it, his shirt is on the floor and his jeans are open ("White skinnies— _fucking wonderful_ ,"), and when he finally comes to his senses, Louis is working on what's got to be sick mark by now on his neck while rubbing over his balls through the lacy material of his black knickers. The material is slightly rough but Louis knows how to make it feel good without actually hurting Harry, and Harry bucks up uncontrollably against the feeling. "Lou," he whispers, "Come on. Don't tease." Then, quieter, for added effect because he knows how much it gets to Louis, "Please?"

"Fuck. Yeah, alright. Yeah, babe. I've got you." Louis slips his other hand under the waistband and pulls, them both watching as the white drags down Harry's thighs, and then as it drops to the floor next to Harry's shirt. Harry doesn't even need to prompt Louis to take his shirt off; soon Louis' tan chest is bare and all on display for Harry's hungry eyes.

Harry's sheer black knickers do absolutely nothing to hide his hard cock already leaking against his tummy, so he's not very surprised when Louis drags a finger up to the tip and through the precome, only to lick it off with his eyes locked with Harry's. "Lou," Harry whines, bucking his hips again.

"I know, I know," Louis replies softly as he gets up from the bed. Harry is about to protest when he sees Louis stripping and cuts himself off at the sudden sight of Louis' perfect bare arse. They'll definitely have to do it the other way around next time because Harry is not letting that arse go to waste. When Louis turns around, lube and a condom in hand, Harry plants his feet on the bed and spreads his legs, giving Louis a lovely view that has Louis' breath audibly catching in his throat.

"Lou, come on." Harry slowly peels the black knickers down his legs, flinging them to the floor and spreading his legs again. He crooks his finger at Louis, motioning him to, "Get over here please," and snickers as Louis scrambles the fastest he probably ever has to settle between Harry's legs. His own hard dick bobs between his legs, the head glistening with precome that Harry wants to lick off.

Before Louis does anything else though, he drops the stuff on the bed, places his hands on Harry's knees, and asks with serious eyes, "You're sure?"

"Absolutely," answers Harry without a second thought as he drags Louis down for another deep kiss. Their dicks slide together as Louis settles his knees under Harry's thighs and kisses Harry deeper. It feels amazing, so much that Harry has to push Louis' hips away before it gets too much and he loses control.

Usually, he thinks to himself while Louis situates himself back on his ankles, it's Louis who has no control in times like this. It's a bit endearing and a lot hot how much Louis always wants him, and especially how much Louis always takes care of Harry. Harry can't think of one time where Louis came before him—he isn't counting the rare times where Louis lets him take charge.

His thoughts get cut short when Louis rubs at the insides of his thighs and murmurs, "H, love, come back to me." Harry's eyes focus and he can feel himself blush, knows how red he's getting from getting caught. Louis smiles when their eyes lock. "Kinda curious to hear what's got my Hazza's thoughts occupied enough that he forgets he's about to get dicked for the first time," he says.

Harry groans. "Don't say it like that; it sounds to vulgar. And this isn't my first time."

"With me, it is," Louis reminds him, smile soft and eyes shining, hands still rubbing patterns in Harry's soft skin. And—yeah. That's very true. This is his first time with Louis, and on such a special night, and Harry feels his mind overwork, feels so overwhelmed that he has to turn his face in the pillow and hold Louis' wrists to ground himself. Louis' lips are suddenly on Harry's neck, nipping and lightly sucking, sending Harry into a very aroused frenzy. Harry bites the pillow to keep what would be embarrassingly loud noises (they've only just started, dammit) from reaching Louis' ears.

Somewhere outside a car honks loudly, and Harry feels so hot he mentally curses himself for not turning the air on at least low earlier. He's sweating, so attuned to Louis at his neck, that the first wet finger that swipes over his hole startles him. He jerks away by instinct, but tries to push down on it when his mind clears again and Louis' soft lips murmur reassuring words against his now damp neck. He didn't even notice Louis' hands drag away from his thighs, but it doesn't matter anymore—nothing matters to Harry anymore, except keeping Louis close and loving him until the end of time.

The pressure against his hole that he hasn't felt from anyone else in so long is so good. Harry is panting already, pushing down and whimpering when Louis' finger slips inside up to the first knuckle. "Lou," Harry whispers, eyes screwed shut, fingers clenching the sheets tight enough that it hurts a little. It doesn't overpower the fact that Louis is inside him right now, getting him ready for something so much  better. Harry's thought about this night for so long and now that it's actually happening, he couldn't be happier.

Louis pushes in the rest of the way soon enough, his other knuckles snug against Harry's rim and bum cheeks, and Harry clenches down hard because fuck. He's so ready for this, for  _Louis_ , that he's already wanting the second finger right away. Though he did do this earlier today, he knows he still needs it, because it's been a few hours since then and neither of them want anybody hurt. It's why when Louis starts moving, twisting and crooking and helping Harry get used to the feeling, Harry uses all the willpower he has left to stay still and not beg for more too soon.

Louis startles Harry—yet again—when he says his name. Harry looks up, still biting his lip, squirms when Louis stops moving his finger inside him. "Babe," Louis sounds amazed as he says, "You're so beautiful. So fucking lovely. You're comfortable, yeah?"

"'Course," Harry grunts in response, wiggling a bit in hopes of finding some kind of friction again—any kind of friction. "More than. Please—"

"I know," Louis interrupts, crooking his finger again and smiling smugly as Harry shudders, "I'm going. Patience though, yeah? Don't wanna rush things and hurt you."

"I love you," is all Harry can think to say. His past two boyfriends, though at first may have been generous enough, rarely ever paid attention to if he was comfortable, they both rushed through things, assumed he was alright. Though he never got hurt physically, it's still so nice to have a boyfriend who constantly cares about his well-being, constantly puts Harry before himself. He's always like that, during sexual times and not. Harry loves Louis so much and he knows how much Louis loves him in return. This is all Harry's ever asked for and more; he could never be happier.

That thought is proven wrong when Louis pushes in a second slick finger alongside the first. Harry gets happier every second he's with Louis, and Louis' so careful, stretching him like he is, that already Harry's knees are trembling and he's panting into the crook of his arm.

"Good, good," he says, kicking his leg out a little to get Louis' attention. Louis hums, finally looking up at Harry's face with his eyebrows raised. "I'm good," Harry repeats. He feels a little more desperate by now; it's been too long since he's felt a cock inside himself and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer.

With a roll of his eyes, Louis pushes in a third finger, and Harry sees him smile after letting out a little squeal from the stretch. "You're not ready yet, babe." Louis curls his fingers particularly hard on  _babe_ , Harry chokes on nothing, and they both still and stare at each other for a few seconds. Then, "I want this just as much as you Harry, but I don't want you hurting at all our first time, yeah?"

Harry nods, closes his eyes as Louis starts up again, and tries to concentrate on relaxing as much as he can. The stretch of Louis' fingers is enough to have him crazy with it already, but he doesn't want to come yet, preferably not until Louis does inside him. But already it feels so good, especially when those fingers curl a certain way and have Harry keening and arching his back so high it almost hurts.

"There?"

Harry glares a little up at Louis' smirk— _obviously_ , he wants to say. "Please, yeah," he says instead.

Louis does. Harry can only describe this as phenomenal, the way Louis' fingers keep jabbing at that one spot and making his whole body shake from how good it feels. It's the only word he can come up with right now without hurting his brain, and it's a pretty suiting word.

"Phenomenal, huh?" Louis' slows the pace a little, back to scissoring his fingers to help stretch Harry some more. It takes a second for Harry to realize that he said that out loud, that Louis can't read minds. Opening his eyes, Harry offers a soft smile and nods, hoping it didn't sound too weird. "Good. That’s what I was going for."

The next thing Harry knows, Louis' kissing him while opening a foil packet, and his fingers are gone. He feels empty now, and he would complain, but then Louis' slicking his condom-covered dick up and pressing it right against Harry's entrance. "Lou," Harry whispers. He threads his fingers through Louis' hair and holds on to his shoulder with the other hand.

"Yes, love?" Louis looks straight at Harry with the most attentive eyes ever, like if Harry told him to stop right now he's throw the condom away and suck Harry off instead. Louis seems to understand, since a second later he's pressing light kisses over Harry's cheeks, softly to his lips, and saying, "If you want me to stop I will, promise."

"Don't want you to stop," Harry replies, "Want you to kiss me first."

Louis kisses him again, keeping it gentle and light until Harry tugs on his hair a little. Then he kisses Harry deeper, dragging out little whimpers from Harry until they're both panting and rocking against each other. "Now," Harry whispers. He doesn't let go of Louis, doesn't let him pull away. Harry doesn't think he'd be as comfortable with the first feelings of Louis stretching him open if Louis wasn't pressed close like this. He feels safe and warm like this, with Louis' weight leaning on him as Louis pushes in.

It burns a little—it always will with the first initial slide, Harry knows this—but it doesn't hurt. Knowing that this is Louis, his Louis' rocking his hips in little thrusts to slowly get Harry use to the feeling, to slowly open him until his hips are flush with Harry's bum—feeling Louis inside of him... it's the best feeling in the world. Nothing burns anymore. It's all just pure bliss. Louis hasn't even properly moved, yet Harry's already panting bucking his hips because—

 _Fuck_ , it's hot. Harry opens his eyes and he meets blue ones, wide and sparkling and fondness, amazed. He loves this boy above him,  _inside_  him.  _Louis'_  inside him fuck fuck  _fuck_.

"Move," he pleads suddenly, not being able to take how still Louis is, "Move please, oh my gods."

"Yes, gods," Louis pants right along with him as he slowly pulls out then pushes right back in. Harry clenches tight around him, biting the inside of his wrist so the list of profanities running through his mind doesn't accidentally spill.

Louis keeps up a very slow pace. His own face is buried in Harry's neck as he pumps his hips, slow and steady, getting them both use to the feeling. It's not their first times, not technically, but it is their first time with each other, together, and Harry knows this means just as much to Louis as it does to him. He also knows this feels as good to Louis as it does him.

Fuck—they're still just setting the pace, trying to get used to the feeling, yet Harry feels on fire already. Louis' thick enough that he stretches Harry perfectly, rubs all along Harry's walls just right, already is close enough to that spot that'll send Harry into a frenzy without even trying. It's a bit maddening, how this is already better than any other time Harry's done this, but Harry won't complain.

He's biting his bottom lip quite hard, trying to not be too loud even though they're alone in the flat. Louis is keeping his thrusts steady, fingers carding through Harry's curls while he holds Harry's hip with the other and noses along his jaw, down to his neck. "Feel so good," Louis murmurs against Harry's throat as he picks up speed. It's subtle, but Harry notices, his leg kicking out a little from the sensation.

"You too," he whisper back, craning his neck to the side in hope of Louis maybe marking him up a bit.

With a hum, Louis attaches his lips to Harry's pulse-point and sucks, fucking in a bit faster, harder, than before, and sending Harry thrashing out. "Fuck, you sound amazing," mutters Louis as he licks a wet stripe up to Harry's jaw, "Could listen to you moan all night."

Harry digs his heels into the bed, hands dragging down until his nails are digging into the soft flesh of Louis' bum, and he pulls Louis in harder on his next in-thrust, causing them both to moan. Louis' eyed snap up from Harry's bare chest and lock with Harry's own in surprise. "Yeah?" he asks.

Biting his lip, Harry nods in response, dipping his fingers deeper in Louis' firm bum muscles. It's such a nice arse, and if Harry didn't have Louis' cock fucking him into the mattress, he'd be knuckle deep in that arse already.

As it is, Louis hitches Harry's legs up higher around himself, grunts a little as he scoots further between spread thighs to change the angle. His next thrust is slow but deeper than before, and Harry has to shut his eyes tight as he jerks about at the burning sensation. It's so fucking hot around them now, Harry's burning up where Louis' balls keep slapping against his arse, and he feels more out of breath than he ever has with Louis sweaty and naked with him.

Louis must take notice since the next thing he does is sit back on his haunches, nearly sliding out, the head just barely still stretching Harry. Harry whimpers, scrambling to pull Louis down for a kiss, not wanting to stop. Louis stops him though, a gentle hand resting in the middle of Harry's rapidly rising and falling cheat. "Breathe, love," he murmurs softly, eyes laced with concern.

Harry tries—he shakes a little as he drags in a deep breath then releases slowly, repeating the process until he doesn't feel on fire anymore and he can properly smile up at his perfect boyfriend. "'M good," he whispers back, this time successfully pulling Louis down into a heated kiss.

Louis carefully slides all the way back in, filling Harry perfectly while tracing Harry's tongue with his own. He slides his hands up Harry's thighs, over his hips, and up to his chest, flicking at Harry's nipples until they're hard and dark pink. "Lou," Harry pants, eyes wide.

"I love you, H" Louis pants back before planting his hands on either side of Harry's face and fucking in faster than before.

Harry mules, nails dragging up Louis' biceps, head thrown back at the feeling of Louis constantly hitting his spot now. Harry doesn't remember when Louis changed the angle, but now it feels too good for him to even think straight. All that crosses his mind is _Louis_ and _fuck_ and _good, so good_ and _Louis' cock_ and _Louis' lips_ and _fuck_. He doesn't think anyone has ever fucked him this good. Louis is amazing and already Harry feels his impending orgasm bubbling at the base of his spine sooner than he'd like.

Whispering, "Louis," Harry pushes up off the bed enough to kiss his boyfriend, fingers dragging over his shoulders as Louis' fucks in harder.

"Yeah, fuck, me too, Harry," Louis whispers back. Harry marvels at how Louis' thrusts stay steady, keep hitting Harry's spot even though Harry knows Louis is about to come too. He's biting his lip, eyes squinted, and arm muscles tense. Just like always whenever he's about to come, Harry thinks.

He's holding off though, Harry can tell by the way his eyebrows are pulled together. He wants Harry to come first.

At the thought, Harry's own hips jump off the bed to meet Louis' thrusts, feeling that much closer than before—his cock is twitching against his stomach, muscles drawn tight because he's right there, right fucking there—

Louis biting Harry's nipple pushes him over the edge, come shooting out on his stomach as he convulses around Louis through waves of pleasure that feel too good to be true. If it weren't for Louis' high wail and nails biting into the skin of his hips, Harry wouldn't have even noticed him coming too. He does though, and moans right along with Louis, deep aftershocks shaking through his body as Louis pumps in a few more times to ride his own orgasm out.

They're both breathless, panting against each other. Harry clings to Louis like he's a lifeline—well, he kind of is by this point, and Harry smiles a little at the thought. His lungs are burning still, not as bad as they were before, but he knows he'll have to step outside for some fresh air sometime before they go to bed.

Slowly, he slides his hands over Louis' shoulder blades, over and over, kissing the side of his head until Louis lifts up just enough to look Harry in the eyes. "Hi," he whispers, fingers pinching Harry's hip a little.

Harry giggles a little, accepting the sweet but short kiss Louis gives him before he's sitting up and slowly pulling out. They both wince a little, but after Louis' tied the condom and throws it in the trash, he's right back at Harry's side, snuggling up with a nose on Harry's shoulder.

"Hi," Harry says back as he reaches for some tissues from the bedside table. Louis knocks his hand away though, claiming he should be the one cleaning Harry up, then proceeds to do so. Harry won’t complain; he snuggles back into the bed, pulling the duvet up and over Louis and himself after Louis' done with that too and has thrown away the soiled tissues.

"You know," Louis starts after a long bout of silence from both parties, tracing patterns across Harry's chest under the thick duvet, "I wasn't expecting any of that. Thought I'd get a finger or two, maybe a tongue. _That_ though— _Gods_ , that was fucking amazing. So beautiful."

" _You_ were amazing," Harry says back, then his eyes go wide once he realizes how scratchy his voice is.

Louis' eyes are wide too but he's more amused than anything. "Damn Styles—" he pokes the side of Harry's throat, "—sounds like I fucked your mouth, not your arse." Then, a moment later after Harry forces himself not to think about Louis' cock in his mouth, Louis' face softens and his fingers trail over Harry's torso right where his lungs are. "Are you alright?"

Harry nods, catching Louis' fingers in his own and holding them over his still-racing heart. "Will be, yeah," he says quieter, not wanting to strain his throat too much. He doesn't even remember being that loud. Oh well. "Probably gonna step outside for a minute or two before I fall asleep, but yeah."

"I'll open the window, yeah?" Louis gets up, leaving Harry in the warm cocoon alone. He opens their bedroom window, curtains fluttering instantly in the night breeze. Harry feels the breeze against his face, inhales deeply, and feels more relief in his chest than before. "Maybe some tea too? We just bought honey few days ago, that'll help."

"Lou," Harry whines, reluctantly bringing his arms out from the blanket cocoon to make grabby hands at the tan, naked boy across the room. He pouts a little, knowing how much it gets to Louis still, and adds, "Miss you already. I'll drink extra tea in the morning, just come back to bed. Please?"

Though the man groans, Harry can see the fond in his eyes, the way his lips quirk up at the sides as he crawls back under the covers and pulls Harry to on top of him. He strokes Harry's long curls away from Harry's face, pressing soft kisses across his forehead, and Harry shivers a little at the wonderful contact. "Only because I love you," he whispers, "Now go to sleep. We’ve got a gallon of tea to drink in the morning before Pez calls us."

Harry smirks, but settles further against Louis' warm skin, breathing in the sweat and sex and cologne filled room. It’s starting to smell fresher in here because of the open window, of which Harry is very thankful for, but he presses his nose to Louis’ chest and inhales deeply, wanting to savor the unique smell that is Louis after sex before it’s gone.

"We've still got to grill her about the cheesy, matching necklaces," he reminds both Louis and himself. The chain of Louis' necklace is right in Harry' eye line and he brings his hand up to finger over the delicate metal. The charm must've dropped to the other side sometime during their night of fun.

"They may be cheesy," starts Louis as he fingers over the chain of Harry's necklace, "But I love them and I have a feeling you do too."

Harry hums, but doesn't respond. Louis knows how much Harry loves them, he doesn't have to say anything at all, and that in and of itself warms Harry's heart to no ends. Knowing that Louis knows, _knows_ what Harry likes and doesn't like, well. It’s very wonderful.

"Love you," he whispers, adding a little flick to Louis' nipple to hear his small but wonderful gasp.

Louis grabs Harry's wrist, fingers tight over the forming bruises on the sensitive skin, and drags Harry's hand down to lay by their sides. "Careful there, love. None of that till tomorrow, yeah? Just sleep now."

Harry bites back a chuckle. Sleep is dragging his lids down, so he guesses Louis is right: they both need sleep. With a yawn, Harry shakes his wrist from Louis' grasp, only to tangle their fingers together.

In the warmth of Louis' arms, Harry feels at home. He loves Louis and Louis loves him, and he's had the perfect night. Harry can’t help but smile as he finally drifts off.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Last one, I promise to myself!!
> 
> Also, keep your eyes open. I may have a comic book store one-shot in the works right now, so. ;)


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